On this year’s World Parents’ Day, I still want to be with my children

My country, Rwanda, has long had a reputation as a nation committed to promoting women’s rights and protecting families. However, this involvement is deeply selective. Critics of the government, like me, are routinely deprived of such rights and protections with impunity.

The Rwandan Constitution clearly defines the state’s responsibility for protecting families and creating the conditions necessary for their development. This commitment is institutionalized through the Ministry of Gender and Family Affairs, which houses the Directorate-General for Family Promotion and Child Protection. The directorate’s mandate is to develop comprehensive policies to eliminate gender-based violence and protect women and children from domestic and other forms of violence. Some of the policies developed by this directorate have been instrumental in building Rwanda’s reputation as a leader for women and families.

However, there is a clear disconnect between this idealistic policy framework and the reality faced by government critics like me.

My experience as a political dissident in Rwanda over the past 14 years paints a grim picture of the selective application of these laws.

Thirty years ago, when the Tutsi genocide took place in Rwanda, I was a student in the Netherlands. As I watched with horror the reports of political upheaval, suffering and death coming from my beloved homeland, I decided to take action and founded a political party called the United Democratic Forces of Rwanda (FDU-Inkingi).

After a long period of political activity in the diaspora, I returned to Rwanda in January 2010 to register my party and run for president against incumbent Paul Kagame. I said goodbye to my husband and three children at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam after a separation that at the time I considered to be very short.

Sadly, some 14 years later, we are still apart.

My criticism of the Rwandan government’s policies and my outspoken political aspirations have led to systemic violations of my civil rights, including the right to family life.

In March 2010, two months after arriving in Rwanda, I wanted to return to the Netherlands for my son’s eighth birthday. I promised I would celebrate with him, and I really wanted to keep my word. However, the police stopped me at the airport and informed me that I was not allowed to leave the country due to an impending call from the Criminal Investigation Department (CID), which has since been replaced by the Rwanda Bureau of Investigation. This was the first in a long series of targeted restrictions designed to restrict my freedoms following my political opposition.

The situation escalated when, in April 2010, I officially asked the Prosecutor General for permission to travel to the Netherlands for my son’s first communion, which is an important family event. I have provided specific travel dates to the competent authorities. In response, the CID officer summoned me for interviews on those exact dates, effectively preventing me from traveling and attending the ceremony.

In late 2010, this political persecution escalated and I was arrested on fabricated charges including “conspiring against the government using war and terrorism” and “denying genocide.” I faced these baseless accusations of daring to participate in democracy in Rwanda as a presidential candidate and gave a speech at the Kigali Genocide Memorial in Gisozi, calling for unity and reconciliation.

In 2012, following a politically motivated trial, the Supreme Court of Rwanda sentenced me to 15 years in prison, which led to further violations of my human rights. I had to endure long periods of solitary confinement that were not part of my sentence. I was also allowed only a few limited visits from relatives, limiting my access to social support networks – all of which stand in stark contrast to Rwanda’s purported commitment to protecting families and supporting women’s rights.

In 2014, I took my case to the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights (AfCHPR). After three years of deliberations, the court ruled in my favor and found that my rights had been violated. A 2017 African court ruling confirmed that the Rwandan government had breached its international obligations. The court then ruled that the Rwandan government should compensate my family and I for the moral damage we suffered during this ordeal. The Rwandan government still does not recognize the AfCHPR ruling. Following the African court’s ruling, and even though I was eligible for release, I was held in prison under rigorous conditions for an additional year. I was eventually released under certain conditions after a presidential pardon in 2018.

However, my and my family’s suffering did not end with my release from prison. After my release, I was the subject of a merciless smear campaign on social media. Many senior Rwandan officials – including ministers, government spokesmen, presidential advisers, ambassadors and members of parliament – have publicly accused me of promoting “genocidal ideology”, “incitement to genocide” and waging war against Rwanda and its people. While these allegations are blatantly false, they have put a target on my back and made me fear for my safety and the safety of my loved ones. These fears were not unfounded because during this period many of my closest supporters who supported my call for the establishment of true democracy and the rule of law in Rwanda were forcibly disappeared, killed and arbitrarily arrested. Even though I had no relation to any of them, each of them is family to me and I am still heartbroken that I was separated from them. The children, wives, parents and other family members of my supporters who were killed, disappeared or imprisoned for daring to demand a more democratic Rwanda also live in endless sadness. They were also arbitrarily denied the right to family life in a country that promised to protect them.

The presidential pardon I received in 2018 stipulates that I can leave Rwanda with the consent of the Ministry of Justice. However, my repeated requests to visit my family in the Netherlands have so far been met with only silence. I have received several “receipts” of my requests over the years, but never an actual response. I missed many family events, including my children’s weddings and the birth of my grandchildren.

In 2023, I appealed directly to Rwandan President Paul Kagame on humanitarian grounds and asked for permission to visit my seriously ill husband, whom I had not seen for over a decade. Once again my request went unanswered. I have since made another attempt to restore my civil rights, including the right to free movement, through the Rwandan courts, but my application was rejected.

Today, as nations around the world celebrate World Parents’ Day, I have no contact with my children. My story, and that of my supporters who have fallen victim in various ways to the call for true democracy and the rule of law in Rwanda, shows the harm that parents and their children suffer when state mechanisms are used to silence, intimidate and punish the government, critics and activists human rights.

Today, not only am I denied the right to a family life, but I also cannot participate in elections in my country. This means that I cannot participate in the July 2024 presidential elections and, as a candidate, I cannot advocate for true democracy, human rights and the rule of law in Rwanda.

The state’s refusal to restore my political rights, as well as the repeated violations of my fundamental human rights, including the right to family life, constitute a violation of Rwanda’s obligations under the East African Community Treaty, which requires respect for the fundamental principles of democracy, the rule of law and respect for human rights.

For this reason, I have brought a case before the East African Court of Justice. My goal was not only to provide interim measures to enable me to participate in the upcoming presidential elections, but also to oppose my unjust and heartbreaking separation from my family. This legal action doesn’t just affect my rights; it is about affirming the rights of all people who have been victims of similar violence. And in the hope that I will be able to celebrate the next World Parents’ Day surrounded by my children.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Al Jazeera.